The moment Abhimaan and Aarohi stepped back inside the house, everyone noticed it.

Not because they were standing close.

Not because they had spoken for long.

But because something in the air between them had changed.

It was still unfamiliar. Still uncertain. Still fragile.

But it was there.

And families—especially Indian families—always noticed these things before the people involved ever admitted them.

Meenu’s eyes softened as she looked between them.

Sakshi exchanged a glance with Akaash.

Shubhi smiled quietly from beside Kartik.

And little Prisha, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear—

“Bua likes him.”

Aarohi nearly dropped the tray in her hands.

“Prisha!”

The room burst into laughter.

For the first time that afternoon, the sharp tension around Abhimaan eased just enough for Krish to grin.

“Well,” he said, leaning back.

“That answers everything.”

Aarohi lowered her gaze immediately, her cheeks warming, while Abhimaan simply stood there with his usual unreadable expression.

But Riya noticed something no one else did.

For one brief second—

her brother looked at Aarohi.

And he did not look away first.

Two weeks later, both families gathered at the Rajvansh estate for the engagement.

The mansion had transformed overnight.

Thousands of warm fairy lights wrapped around marble pillars. White roses floated in crystal bowls. Soft golden candles lined the grand staircase. A live sitar melody drifted through the air while guests moved through the halls dressed in silk and diamonds.

Everything about the evening looked like luxury.

But the center of every whispered conversation remained the same.

Abhimaan Singh Rajvansh was getting engaged.

And no one could quite believe it.

Upstairs, Aarohi stood in front of the mirror while Shubhi adjusted the final pin in her hair.

She looked almost unreal.

Her lehenga was a soft champagne gold with delicate hand embroidery that shimmered every time she moved. Mirror details traced the border of her dupatta, which rested gracefully over one shoulder. The fitted blouse had intricate threadwork along the sleeves, and the skirt flowed around her like soft liquid gold.

Her jewelry was elegant rather than heavy— diamond earrings, a delicate bracelet, and a maang tikka that rested lightly against her forehead.

Her makeup was soft. Rosy lips. Light kajal. Glowing skin.

She did not look overdone.

She looked timeless.

Shubhi smiled at her reflection.

“You look beautiful.”

Aarohi swallowed nervously. “I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Shubhi laughed softly. “That means it matters.”

Aarohi looked at herself again.

Maybe that was what scared her.

Because it did.

More than she wanted to admit.

---

Downstairs, Abhimaan stood near the staircase while guests greeted him one after another.

He wore a black sherwani with subtle silver embroidery across the collar and cuffs, tailored perfectly to his broad frame. His watch caught the warm light every time he moved, and his dark hair was pushed neatly back, making his already sharp features look even more severe.

He looked exactly like what people imagined when they heard his name.

Untouchable.

Dangerous.

Perfect.

Krish stepped beside him and smirked.

“You know, for someone getting engaged, you look like you’re attending a board meeting.”

Abhimaan glanced at him.

“I am standing here, aren’t I?”

Krish laughed. “That poor girl has no idea what she’s marrying.”

Abhimaan’s jaw tightened slightly.

Something about the way Krish said that poor girl made him unexpectedly defensive.

And he did not like that.

Not at all.

---

Then Aarohi walked down the stairs.

And the entire room went silent.

Even the music seemed to disappear.

Abhimaan looked up—

and forgot to breathe.

For a moment, the world around him blurred into nothing.

All he could see was her.

The way the gold shimmered softly against her skin. The way her hair fell over one shoulder. The nervous way her fingers held the edge of her dupatta. The way her eyes searched the room until they found him.

And then stopped.

On him.

Abhimaan had spent years surrounded by beautiful women.

Women who tried too hard. Women who wanted his name. Women who wanted his world.

But Aarohi—

she looked at him as though she saw the man, not the empire.

And somehow that felt far more dangerous.

Riya leaned toward him and whispered with a grin,

“Try not to stare.”

Abhimaan looked away immediately.

But it was already too late.

Everyone had seen.

---

When Aarohi reached the stage, her heartbeat was so loud she could barely hear the guests around her.

Abhimaan stood across from her, impossibly composed, holding the engagement ring box in one hand.

Up close, he looked even more intimidating.

And somehow even more handsome.

His dark eyes met hers for a second before dropping to her trembling hand.

“You’re nervous,” he said quietly.

Aarohi blinked. “So are you.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“I don’t get nervous.”

Aarohi gave him the faintest smile.

“Your hand says otherwise.”

For the first time in years, someone had noticed something he had tried to hide.

His thumb had been tapping once against the ring box.

A habit no one ever noticed.

Except her.

For one second, his expression changed.

Not much.

Just enough.

And Aarohi realized there was far more to him than silence.

---

The priest signaled.

It was time.

Abhimaan took her left hand gently.

His fingers were warm. Steady. Careful.

Far more careful than she expected from a man like him.

The diamond ring slid onto her finger, catching the chandelier light.

And when Aarohi looked up—

he was already watching her.

Not the crowd. Not the guests. Not the cameras.

Her.

Then she took his hand.

His skin was warm beneath hers, but there was tension in his shoulders—like he was still not used to being touched.

Aarohi slowly slid the ring onto his finger.

And when she looked up again, his gaze had darkened.

The air between them suddenly felt too close.

Too quiet.

Too intimate for a room full of people.

Everyone around them clapped.

But neither of them moved.

Neither of them looked away.

Until Prisha shouted from below—

“Now smile!”

The room burst into laughter.

Aarohi smiled instantly.

And to everyone’s complete shock—

Abhimaan’s lips curved into the smallest, rarest smile.

Just for a second.

But it was enough.

Because the room noticed.

And so did Aarohi.

And somehow—

that tiny smile felt more intimate than anything else that had happened that night.

---

Later that evening, Aarohi stepped onto the balcony to breathe.

The noise inside had become overwhelming.

The night air was cool against her skin, and for the first time all evening she allowed herself to exhale.

“You disappear often.”

She turned.

Abhimaan stood in the doorway, one hand in his pocket, watching her.

Aarohi looked away quickly. “Too many people.”

He nodded once. “I understand.”

That surprised her.

Because he actually meant it.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Aarohi glanced at him.

“Why did you agree to this marriage?”

Abhimaan looked out into the garden below.

For several long seconds, he said nothing.

Then quietly—

“Because my family asked me to.”

Aarohi’s heart sank a little.

That answer should not have hurt.

But it did.

She looked down at her hands. “Oh.”

Abhimaan turned toward her then.

“And you?”

Aarohi smiled faintly.

“Because mine asked me to.

For the first time that evening, something almost amused crossed his face.

“So we are both here out of obligation.”

Aarohi looked at him.

“Seems like it.”

Their eyes met.

And this time the silence between them did not feel uncomfortable.

It felt like the beginning of something neither of them understood yet.

Abhimaan stepped closer.

Not enough to touch.

Just enough to make her breath catch.

And in a voice low enough that only she could hear, he said—

“Then perhaps… we should make this easier for each other.”

Aarohi’s heartbeat stumbled.

“How?”

Abhimaan held her gaze.

“One day at a time.”

And for reasons she could not explain

Aarohi nodded.

Because for the first time since hearing his name—

Abhimaan Singh Rajvansh no longer felt like a stranger.

He felt like a story she was only beginning to read.

_________

And just like that… their story has taken its first step. ♡

A rare smile. A quiet promise. And two strangers who may slowly become something more.

What did you think about Abhimaan’s “one day at a time” moment?

Do you think Aarohi is starting to see the man behind his silence?

Vote, comment, and let me know your thoughts — I love reading every single one of them.

With love,

— Author